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Instructions

A lively looking porter stood on the rear platform of a sleeping-car in
the Pennsylvania station when a fussy and choleric old man clambered up
the steps. He stopped at the door, puffed for a moment, and then turned
to the young man in uniform.

"Porter," he said. "I'm going to St. Louis, to the Fair. I want to be
well taken care of. I pay for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, but--"

"Never mind any 'buts.' You listen to what I say. Keep the train boys
away from me. Dust me off whenever I want you to. Give me an extra
blanket, and if there is any one in the berth over me slide him into
another. I want you to--"

"But, say, boss, I--"

"Young man, when I'm giving instructions I prefer to do the talking
myself. You do as I say. Here is a two-dollar bill. I want to get the
good of it. Not a word, sir."

The train was starting. The porter pocketed the bill with a grin and
swung himself to the ground. "All right, boss!" he shouted. "You can do
the talking if you want to. I'm powerful sorry you wouldn't let me tell
you--but I ain't going out on that train."